


I have seen an empire falling

by sinceraly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes-centric, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gamora Has Issues, Gamora needs a hug, Infinity War spoilers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), author needs a hug, former assassin buddies, im a bucky barnes shill and a part of me died after watching this movie, many spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinceraly/pseuds/sinceraly
Summary: Bucky Barnes contemplates life at the end of the line and meets someone who understands.





	I have seen an empire falling

There is a special kind of beauty at the end of existence.

Warm, pastel red sky overhangs gentle, pink grains of sand. A sun settles itself in the center of the sky, not moving, as though time, it's cruelties, or it's blessings, have ceased to exist.

Bucky sits on a sand dune. Although he had landed with Sam and quite a few others, including Wakandian warriors, countless searching had made it obvious that they were trapped. They lost. Everyone - _everything_ lost. After fruitless marches through the surprisingly gentle landscape, even with everyone’s bodies being sore and torn up from battle, Sam had suggested everyone rest. And T’Challa, ever the kind king, had agreed. Bucky took it as his time to go away.

What do you do when the end of the line looks so different from what you thought it would be?

Bucky had never been here before, that much was for certain. Bucky’s mother wasn’t much of a religious woman - she had too little time to be - but Bucky can faintly (- incredibly faintly; there was as much of a grasp on his childhood as there was a grasp on current reality -) remember Sundays spent at a nearby Catholic church in Brooklyn, can remember discussions on Heaven, on Hell, on purgatory, the in-between. Bucky supposes that if he were anywhere near religious after seeing the shit he’s seen, he would label this place exactly that - Purgatory.

Purgatory. Death to the body, but not the soul. It only makes sense that he wouldn’t be given the closure of burning in Hell or rejoicing in whatever Heaven is out there, or even just fucking staying dead. When he was out for the count in 1945 ( _so long ago, too long ago_ ) there was darkness, and then there was light. In between cryo chambers and missions, there were faces and places, people to kill and locations to burn. And in Wakanda, there was light, a fucking light at the end of the tunnel, but like everything else, like his mother, his sister, his life… Like Steve, they were ripped away from him, without a single thought, without a single damn thought spared to him by the universe, spared to James Buchanan Barnes, the man who lost it all and more.

Bucky draws a star in the sand with his right hand, and before he can stop himself, there are three circles surrounding it.

The tears slip from his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. But once he starts, it's not long before his shoulders shake in silence, not long before he’s biting his real hand to stop himself from whimpering. HYDRA had beaten the shit out of him, tortured him to such an extent that the idea of death was a gift he couldn’t afford, made his mind the most dangerous place for him to be. But he always thought - Fuck, he always thought “hey, at least Steve made it out alright.” Now, he doesn’t know what to think.

He doesn’t know what happened to Steve - they had found the spider kid from New York, spunky and ready to help, though obviously shaken up by recent events, and although the hope that Bucky felt spiked at the sight of him, hope that Steve might be out there, he knew better than to let it live on. He knew better than to expect blessings like that.

James Barnes is exhausted. When T’Challa had given him the new prosthetic and the title “White Wolf,” he allowed himself to be fitted, allowed himself to take the rifle being offered to him and allowed himself to be used as yet another soldier for yet another war. He did it for Steve, for the people in this version of Earth he wasn’t familiar with, but Bucky thought this would be it. When he was inevitably cut down by some aliens, or some sort of monster, he would die an honorable death, for real, and hopefully have protected Steve and bought him more time in the process. Obviously, it didn’t work out that way, and although Bucky knows he should be grateful for another damn chance at some sort of life, he sure as hell isn’t. He feels a presence and reaches for one of the knives constantly on his person - only to be left empty-handed. This place stripped everyone of everything, everything except hopelessness and despair, like some equally fucked version of Pandora’s Box.

A warm breeze passes through his hair, and when he finally turns around, he’s met with the image of a young alien girl, with forest green skin and fierce crimson hair, in braids. The hem of her robes dance along with the small amount of wind, and her head is craned.

“Hello, stranger.” The girl says, sounding both like a child and like someone who's lived thousands of years, lived thousands of lives. “My name is - was, Gamora.”

“Bucky,” he responds, fighting the urge to relax in her soft presence. “Its…. Nice to meet you, Gamora. Did Thanos get you too?”

She winces, and Bucky averts his eyes, clearing his throat, “uh. Sorry, kid.”

“It is… It is fine,” Gamora says, though her voice is quieter, hurt, as she plays with her hands. “I guess you could say he did. I was his…. His adopted daughter.” Bucky’s eyes widen and he wins the battle over his relaxing body, immediately becoming tense again.

“ _What_?”

“Thanos conquered my home,” she explains, looking at Bucky with a melancholic expression that says _I’ve seen others react the same way_. “He took me after the massacre and raised me as a sort of warrior princess who killed at his command, and then…. And then I ran away with hatred in my heart. He found me, took me, and in exchange for the soul gem, he ended my life in the physical plane. My appearance now is what I looked like as a child. My preferred state.” Bucky doesn’t make any noises of surprise, but he does look back down at his shoes.

“Trained for murder, huh? I would know the feeling.”

Gamora cocks her head to the side. “Are you an assassin?”

“ _Was_. I _was_ an assassin. I’m not anymore. Or at least, I don’t think I am. But it's hard to tell who you are during war.” Bucky reaches into his shirt’s neckline and pulls out his dogtags, (one of the things he asked to be made in Wakanda,) palming them. “It’s hard to tell who you when you’re punished for wondering, or when a single thought could have you ending up with a bullet to the head.”

“Were you forced to be someone who you are not?” Gamora asks, and Bucky looks up at her, before patting at his space to the right. If this truly is Purgatory, it’s pretty fucking obvious he has some time to spare talking to the wise assassin-child.

“James Buchanan Barnes, codename: The Winter Soldier,” he recites from his HYDRA files, closing his eyes and letting his head drop, “Assassin, born in 1917. Body to be frozen and mind to be wiped after every mission. Trigger words,” he takes a deep breath, remembering the months in Wakanda he had spent, hearing these words, repeating them, breaking their hold, “ _zhelaniye, rzhavyy, semnadtsat’, rassvet, pech’, devyat’_ ,” Bucky pauses, “ _dobroserdechnyy, vozvrashcheniye na rodinu, odin, gruzovoy vagon._ ”

Gamora puts a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, and to his surprise, he doesn’t mind. “I was not brainwashed against my will but… I learned of the damage I had let myself help in. I was no better than my father, and that is a something I struggled to live with and something I died knowing.” She points forward with her right hand, and Bucky has to squint, but is able to make out a distant silhouette of a temple built something like you would see in Asia. “That is where I woke up - in the shadow of where I first made the choice to take part in evil. The soul gem knows all, and when I was killed, well,” Gamora chuckles bitterly, but Bucky can see light catch on tears glinting in her eyes, “not only did I lose my life and the family I had found. I lost my ability to right my wrongs.”

Bucky can relate. He says so.

“The universe has played us for fools,” Gamora responds, “but… I had taken comfort in the people I call friends. If I could see them, just one last time, everything will have been worth it.”

Bucky thinks of his last word on Earth, thinks about the emblem of a star and red, white, and blue, about blonde hair, blue eyes, and enough weariness to last a lifetime. He gently pulls her hand away from his shoulder with his right hand and squeezes it lightly, in comfort.

“Yeah. Yeah… Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> My life has not known peace since I watched Infinity War, and if it weren't for the fact that I have two AP exams next week, I would be spending all of my free time being a full time Bucky Barnes enthusiast. I'm mcfuckin dying, yall.
> 
> Let Bucky and Gamora be former assassin friends. Let it happen.
> 
> Anyways! My twitter is @WIDOWTRACERS, thank you to @championrevali on twitter for betaing, and I hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
